


Rick of Ages

by gothboobs



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Incest, Latino!Rick, M/M, NSFW, Rick and Morty - Freeform, The Flesh Curtains, Underage - Freeform, Underage Drinking, dubcon, young!Rick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 12:29:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4787321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothboobs/pseuds/gothboobs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morty builds his own portal gun to travel back in time and see Rick perform with The Flesh Curtains live! He quickly becomes a Rick groupie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chasing After Starlight

Morty checked, and then double-checked the coordinates on his portal gun. Yes, _his_ portal gun. It had taken a little over a year, but Morty had carefully studied Rick’s portal gun, and one tiny piece at a time, with many mistakes along the way, Morty had managed to craft his very own method of inter-dimensional travel.

Ever since Birdperson had found him unconscious and brought him back to his house to recuperate, Morty’s thoughts had often wandered back to the photo of Rick on stage, bass in hand, singing to a screaming crowd of thousands.

Morty had completed his portal gun about 2 months before his sixteenth birthday, and had immediately used it to travel back in time to check out The Flesh Curtains play a few smaller shows. For all the shows, Morty kept to the fringes of the audience to hide, but he still managed to buy some official merchandise to secretly wear when Grandpa Rick wasn’t around.

Young Rick was incredible on stage. His presence commanded the attention of every person in attendance, and his skill combined with Birdperson’s beautiful vocals and Squanchy’s drum solos made The Flesh Curtains an amazing band to watch.

With the portal gun calibrated properly, Morty looked at his outfit one final time before leaving. It was the night before his sixteenth birthday, and Morty was going to finally go to the concert from the photograph in Birdperson’s house. Taking a deep breath, Morty fired the portal in his room, and stepped through as his heart raced with excitement.

The concert venue was thick with bodies big and small. Morty slid his portal gun tightly into its holster and then took off, ducking and dodging his way through the crowd to get to the front. He had stayed in the back and at the edges for every performance, but this was the one he _needed_ to see up close. As Morty shimmied his way past a particularly large alien, a huge hand grasped his shoulder and spun him around. A bright blue face invaded his personal space, and shouted at him.

“Ey, you one ‘a tha groupies ordered fo’ Flesh Curtains?”

For the first time on one of his solo adventures, Morty got more than just a little nervous. “Uhh—n-n-no…I’m j-j-just here to see—”

But the alien had turned and was dragging Morty through the crowd without paying attention to any more questions. Morty fleetingly wondered if he should try to escape, but Rick was in his twenties…he wouldn’t recognize him anyway, right? The excitement of being backstage at a Flesh Curtains performance, and his mental justification that it was his birthday tomorrow after all, gave Morty the courage to shrug, grin, and happily follow after the bouncer.

Morty was led down two sets of stairs into a subterranean night club that was pulsing with music. Here, there were more humans than Morty usually saw at these concerts, but they were still the minority in a crowd filled with every imaginable alien. Thumping music blared from speakers, and the second the bouncer’s hand left Morty’s shoulder, a drink was shoved into Morty’s hand, and he was pushed onto the dance floor. Under the cover of music, noise, and lights, Morty lost his anxiety and started to dance. The drink smelled horrible, so Morty passed it off to another partier, and with his hands free, let loose to his favorite music.

As Morty danced, he was suddenly surprised by a pair of strong, warm arms encircling his waist, and pulling him backward into a muscular chest. Enjoying the music and feeling of anonymous freedom, Morty leaned into the embrace and ground against his new partner. As they danced, Morty felt his face flush as his partner ran calloused hands up Morty’s sides and dipped his head to breathe against Morty’s neck. He was a great dancer, and feeling bold, Morty spun around and threw his arms around their neck, to get a better look while they danced.

When his eyes looked up, Morty’s mouth instantly dropped open. Rick, in all his rockstar glory smirked down at him and grabbed Morty’s ass to pull him closer. Rick’s blue hair was longer, darker, and even more unkempt than present-day; spilling down the nape of his neck to caress his ears and collarbones. His shirtless chest was adorned with necklaces, a slight dusting of coarse hair and both shoulders sported tattoos. As different as this younger version of Rick looked from the elderly man Morty was used to, their unifying trait were the wicked, dazzling blue eyes with a glare that shot straight to Morty’s heart.

“Oye, chiquito, p-por qué paras?”

Morty suddenly realized that in his shock at recognizing Rick, he had stopped dancing completely and was now simply standing still, pressed tightly against Rick’s chest, with his arms around his jeweled neck, and Rick’s large hands firmly grasping his bottom. Morty’s high school Spanish was rusty as hell, so the only word he caught was “baby.” Flustered, he pressed his hands against Rick’s chest and pushed just enough to put a few inches between them.

“Oye, óyeme relaja-ah, mierda, tu hablas Ingles ehh—h-hey, relax, babe, don’t get too starstruck, eh?”

Morty allowed himself to exhale the breath he didn’t know he was holding. Duhhh, Rick didn’t recognize him, why was he freaking out? Morty bit his lip as he splayed his fingers across Rick’s chest and started to sway his hips again with the music, “So-sorry, I-I-I didn’t realize it was-it was _you_ , y’know?”

“Ay dios mío, cariño,” Rick laughed and pulled Morty close again, “You’re fucking cute,” Moving one hand down to clasp the back of Morty’s knee and hike up his leg to rest on the side of Rick’s hip, Rick seductively moved against Morty in time to the music and grinned as Morty blushed.

As they danced, Rick took every opportunity possible to grope Morty through his tight jeans, and snicker Spanish against his ears and neck. As the song ended and changed to a new one, Rick took Morty by the hand and tugged him off the dance floor to the VIP section. Bounding up the few steps to the secluded area, Rick threw himself into a low, cushioned bench against the wall, yanking Morty along with him. Caught off balance, Morty tumbled forward and landed in Rick’s arms, inadvertently straddling his lap.

Sitting up, Morty felt his skin grow hot as Rick’s hands roamed over his body before landing on Morty’s ass once again and gripping it as he stared up at Morty.

“Que pasó escuincle? You seem nervous.”

Rick was intoxicating. Morty was a strange mix of turned on, nervous, and terrified, and the pulsing music and dark lighting was making his mind swim. So much about Rick was the same—his eyes, his smirk, the long thin fingers, his raspy voice (which spoke Spanish half the time, much to Morty’s confusion), the way his expression would waver between glee and rage at a moments notice…Morty felt unbelievably dirty for wanting someone who would eventually become his grandfather, but he couldn’t help himself. Leaning his forearms onto Rick’s chest, Morty braced his fingertips against Rick’s stubble-covered jaw, and pressed a timid kiss to his lips. Morty felt Rick smile into the kiss, and pulling back, Morty bit his lip, worried that Rick was about to make fun of him for being a bad kisser. 

He was half right; Rick’s hands left Morty’s ass and instead spread themselves flat against his back as he drew Morty close to his chest that rumbled with low chuckles.

“Besas de la chingada. Here, let me show you how.”

Morty could only begin his sentence, “Wh-what did you-you-you just say—”    

—Before Rick enveloped his open mouth with a heady, demanding kiss.  

Morty whimpered with delight into the kiss as Rick deftly moved his tongue against Morty’s, simultaneously teaching him how Rick liked to kiss and sending chills running from his teeth to his toes. Morty’s hands drifted up to Rick’s thick head of hair, where he tousled his fingers in the soft blue strands, and pulled Rick’s face closer still.

“So excited over a kiss…you’re all mine tonight, ”

Morty panted with passion as Rick murmured against his neck before giving him a savage bite, and covering the red mark with kisses as Morty alternated between protesting at the pain and groaning with delight.

“Ey, Rick, apúrate, salimos en diez minutos.”

Morty recognized that voice couldn’t help but wince once again at the memory of finding Squanchy in the garage closet. Rick pushed Morty off his lap, stood, and stretched his arms while arching his back. Morty stared hungrily as Rick’s muscles strained beneath his brown skin as Rick turned around and winked at Morty.

“No te preocupes querido, acabare lo que empecé…See you after the concert…” Following Squanchy through the crowd, Rick laughed as he walked off, and Morty hurried to follow the rest of the crowd as they crowded back up to the main venue for The Flesh Curtains to take the stage.


	2. Burn of Infinity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Flesh Curtains take the stage, and afterwards, Morty joins Rick for the band afterparty.

Morty ran alongside the rest of the crowd as they shoved their way through the exiting mass of fans to get near the stage. A heavy tap on Morty’s shoulder announced the presence of a mohawked human with heavy makeup and red eyes. He waved a bright purple pill in front of Morty and shouted over the pounding music,

“First time atta intergalactic concert, little dude? You gotta wear one of these—it’ll translate alien talk real-time for you!”

Morty nodded vigorously with an aggravated sigh. He had never been offered one of these before at previous concerts, and instead had just listened to lyrics in languages he didn’t understand, enjoying the music. The man broke open the pill revealing two halfs, one with a sharp needle inside. It was an earring; not a pill.

Swallowing hard, Morty reached out and grabbed his new ‘friend’s arm. “H-h-heyyy—this is-this is safe, right?”

“Dude, it’s a new one, they only work once,” perhaps sensing Morty’s nerves, the punk leaned down and cocked his ear to show Morty, “this one’s mine, see? I can put yours on if you want.”

Morty nodded as he chanted to himself _“just don’t think about it, just don’t think about it”_ silently, and turned his head, offering his right ear for the earring. A half-second of searing, hot pain exploded on his ear as the little pill clamped down on Morty’s earlobe. As bad as it was at first, the pain almost instantly faded to a dull ache, as Morty raised a shaking hand to gently touch his sore ear. His new friend flashed him two thumbs up and then grabbed his arm, gesturing toward the front of the stage.

In every concert previously, Morty had just felt kind of strange and alone, surrounded by chatter he didn’t understand, but with his brand new accessory (with bonus wound) he was suddenly surrounded by thousands of conversations. He was overwhelmed at how much better it was and couldn’t stop the big dopey grin that slowly spread across his face as he followed his Mohawk savior through the crowd.

Just as they were within a few dozen feet of the far edge of the stage, the lights in the club went pitch black and a viciously loud drum solo thundered through the hall. The noise was so deafeningly loud, Morty clapped his hands to his ears, instantly forgetting about his new piercing, and consequently screaming in pain. But he was drowned out by the blaring music. As the lights came up, Birdperson flew up from behind the crowd to stage, acing his landing. When he stood, plumes of red and purple flames shot up from the corners of the stage, revealing Squanchy on a pedestal surrounded by drums, and Rick, radiant beneath pink, yellow and blue spotlights. The drum solo suddenly cut, and Birdperson pulled the mic stand into his chest and his silky voice crooned through the loudspeakers.

The Flesh Curtains were officially performing. The crowd roared as familiar classics poured through the club and a thousand voices raised up to sing along. Sheer rapture stretched a wide grin across Morty’s face as he took his hands off his ears, welcomed the cacophony and waved his arms to the music.

Added lyrics was incandescent. The Flesh Curtains were a talented and poetic group despite, or perhaps, _because of_ their name. Birdperson’s clear, melodious alto voice mingled with Rick’s thick, husky backup vocals in perfect harmony. After a few songs, Birdperson took a couple steps back as Rick switched his bass for a lead guitar. Grabbing a mic stand with one hand, Rick dragged it after him as he staggered to front and center of the stage and planted the stand aggressively in front of him.

Leering out at the crowd, Rick thrust his chest out and grinned as he bellowed out at the crowd, “Más fuerte!”

Morty smacked his forehead, why the FUCK did the translator not work for Spanish!?

Rick jammed out a few audacious power chords and then snagged the microphone, mashing it against his mouth as he sang in a strange alien language: 

_Did you escape my violence /_ _In the astral extremities of space? /_ _My rage unrelenting because of your loss /_ _Enflames me with wondering wanderlust_

Morty’s mouth dropped open for what felt like the hundredth time that night. _THESE_ are the lyrics he had been missing!? Closing his eyes to focus on the music, Morty threw his head back and smiled into the music.

_Wine to forget, but this song to remember /_ _My unyielding despair that you’re gone— /_ _A capacious universe teeming with souls, /_ _But without yours to hold, I’m alone._

_You’ve shattered the face of galactic grandeur /_ _With millions of copies ‘cross reality /_ _I chase after starlight to kill my own soul /_ _And heal myself from the burn of infinity_

He couldn’t help himself, Morty opened his eyes. Rick was gorgeous beneath the lights, dancing in place before the mic as he sang and played his guitar. His movements were seductive, but chaotic; he gyrated and then he slithered…it was mesmerizing to watch.

When he finished his solo to deafening applause, Morty could have sworn that as he turned and walked back toward his earlier position on stage, he glanced over at his shoulder, directly at Morty and stuck his tongue out.

Morty squeaked and felt butterflies fill his stomach. He convinced himself he was imagining things and cheered along with the crowd as the concert continued.

The Flesh Curtains played for a total of three extremely enthusiastic hours, with the band members running around almost non-stop on stage. Rick, Birdperson and Squanchy were indeed exceptional performers.

After two encores, the band finally permanently left the stage. Morty was jostled around with the mob as bouncers started forcing people out of the venue. Morty was getting too nervous waiting to see Rick, so he managed to get to the edge of the crowd near the wall where most people had already left and grabbed his portal gun out of his holster. Just as he raised his arm to shoot a portal, a large hand darted out of nowhere and seized his arm, pulling Morty backward. Flinging himself around with his fist raised, Morty was abruptly face-to-face with a vibrant, devious, and dripping-with-sweat Rick Sanchez.

Rick ripped the portal gun from Morty’s hand and stuck it in his back pocket as he growled out his next words through gritted teeth, “Ni se te ocurra irte, bebé.”

Hunching over, Rick thrust his shoulder into Morty’s middle, and smoothly hoisted him up and over, striding quickly back through the crowd toward backstage. Morty grasped the back of Rick’s vest in an attempt to steady himself and in response he felt Rick pinch his bottom. Huffing, Morty smacked Rick’s back in retaliation, and he heard the rocker chuckle darkly before Rick hefted Morty on his shoulder, driving his shoulder into Morty’s middle as he landed, knocking the wind out of the skinny teenager. Morty gasped and for air and scrambled with his hands to hang on for dear life as Rick snickered as he walked. “No intentes pelear algo que no puedes ganar.”

Morty huffed again but didn’t hit, and settled for watching the disappearing crowd filter out of the venue as Rick lugged him backstage.

Morty was unexpectedly dropped onto the hard surface of a huge subwoofer and Rick shoved his face next to Morty’s, so close that their noses were almost touching. “No te muevas ok?”

Blinking in confusion, Morty’s curious nature suddenly took over, “H-h-hey why do these translation earrings only-only tr-translate alien? I only remember l-l-like twenty words in-in Spanish, y’know.”

Rick’s face went blank for a full moment before he threw back his head and burst out laughing. Grabbing Morty around the neck, Rick scrubbed his knuckles into Morty’s scalp and alternately punched him lightly in the ribs.

“Solo veinte palabras, eh? Niño malo, no te preocupes, yo te enseño.” Rick released Morty who himself was in a fit of giggles and pressed his forehead to the teenager’s. “In English: Don’t move. I’ll be back in a minute.”

He ended the command with another wink and Morty giggled like a child, mentally hating himself for being so obvious about his crush. Rick laughed again—god it sounded beautiful to hear Rick’s laugh so frequently—and giving Morty’s shoulders a final squeeze, he disappeared into a group of roadies. A few minutes later, Rick showed up again, lugging two guitar cases with him. He handed one to Morty and placed the second one carefully by Morty’s feet. Smirking, Rick yelled over his shoulder, “Hey BP, I got all my stuff together!”

Morty bristled, “H-hey! ‘Stuff!?’”

BirdPerson seemed to materialize out of nowhere; “Then let us depart in style!”

What could only be described as a stretch flying saucer was waiting outside for the band as Rick hustled Morty along out the door.

When they arrived at the floating mansion hovering weirdly above a bubbling blue lava-like substance, Morty had already determined that there was probably nothing left that could surprise him tonight. He had been spoiled with playful rough-housing during the ride to the mansion, interrupted once in a while with long, lingering makeout sessions. Rick alternated between scolding him in rough, gravelly Spanish and whispering dirty talk against his ear in thickly accented English. It had basically been thirty minutes of pure, pervy, heaven, and Morty silently thanked god that there was bad lighting almost everywhere so less people could notice the fairly obvious boner he was sporting.

As they exited the vehicle, Rick grabbed Morty’s hand and wove his fingers with Morty’s before leaning close with a mildly serious expression. “Don’t let go; promise?”

“Uh, y-yeah, I won’t, Rick.”

Rick bumped his forehead against Morty’s affectionately and then headed off to the entrance of the mansion, tugging Morty along with him as the teenager trotted quickly behind to keep up with Rick’s long strides.

Inside, Morty’s senses were bombarded. More loud music, but of the slower, R&B variety thumped in the speakers…sexy and near-naked alien dancers of various genders were grinding on poles and other people…the smell of weed, wine and sweat assaulted Morty’s nose but he took a deep breath anyway and followed Rick closely.

Rick was popular. Friends and fans alike pulled him into hugs and hi-fives, handing him drinks and flirted shamelessly before noticing Morty next to Rick and repeating the routine. Throughout the introductions, Rick never let go of Morty’s hand, and Morty felt a swell of confidence and safety despite present circumstances. At one point, Rick pulled Morty into an embrace and pressed a wine-soaked smooch against his lips. Pulling back, Rick shoved a thin open bottle of wine into Morty’s free hand and grinned, “Good, ey!? This is your bottle if y-you wanna drink.”

Morty kept eye contact with Rick as he raised the wine bottle to his lips and tried his best to be seductive as he lifted the bottle to his lips placed them completely over the mouth of the bottle as if he was sucking dick, and slowly drank the wine. Rick watched, enchanted, until Morty lowered the bottle and swallowed.

Narrowing his eyes and dropping his voice, Rick growled, “Ohhh va..?”

Morty shivered at the danger in his voice and licked his lips free of the sweet, fragrant wine.

Rick sped up the friendly conversations after this and all too soon Morty found himself being bustled into dark blue hallway. Just as Rick was about to turn into a room, a loud, angry voice boomed from the end of the hallway.

“OY, FUCKER!”

A four armed, seven foot, monstrous-looking alien stormed toward them with his fists clenched. Morty shrank behind Rick and squeezed his hand in fear. Rick calmly rolled his eyes and stood in front of Morty, “A la chingada.”

“You said you’d get crystal two weeks ago, asshole, where is it?”

Rick subtly moved closer to the closed door he had been walking toward and angled Morty toward it. The alien advanced and raised his fists. Out of fear, Morty released Rick’s hand and put his arms up to shield himself. Moving almost faster than Morty’s eyes could track, the alien suddenly lunged forward and snatched Morty off of his feet by the front of his shirt. Shrieking in fright, Morty dropped his wine bottle and tried to kick and punch his aggressor as the alien growled and shook him fiercely.

“Oy, Rick how ‘bout I just take this thing instead?”

Rick was still deadly calm and simply caught Morty’s falling wine bottle, sipped deeply and then glared up at the alien. “Put him down, and then I will kill you.”

“Ha, you mean ‘or,’ idiot.”

Rick sipped the wine again before dropping it where it fell to the floor and shattered, spraying purplish-red splatters across the hallway. He slowly shook his head and clenched his teeth. “No, I meant ‘then’ but I’m impatient.”

Springing forward, Rick slammed his fist into the alien’s gut before it had a chance to react, and then delivered a savage uppercut to its chin. Stunned, and reeling from the pain, Morty was dropped unceremoniously to the floor. Scrambling away on his hands and knees, Morty winced as he felt a piece of glass slice into his palm. Recoiling in pain, Morty pressed his cut hand to his chest to stop the blood flow and tried to back up against the wall to avoid the brutal fistfight playing out in the hall.

Morty needn’t have worried, as it proceeded to be a fairly one-sided fight. Rick wasted no time in beating the alien down to the floor, despite taking a few hits himself, and once on the ground, Rick proceeded to climb on top and viciously stomp it’s head until the arms and legs stopped twitching. Staggering back, Rick whirled to face Morty, and his face paled when he saw the teenager.

Kneeling on the ground, with a slightly bruised chin and blood soaking his shirt, Morty looked up at Rick with a mixture of relief and terror. Rick rushed to Morty and picked him up, “Morty! Fuck, a-a-are you okay? Morty, are you okay? Whe-whe-where are you hurt, Morty!?”

Morty blinked at Rick and his expression changed from one of relief to one of confusion and anger. “ _WHAT_!? You _know_ who I am???”

Rick kneeled and scooped Morty up into his arms with little effort. He then shoved open the door and bustled Morty inside, slamming it shut with his foot after them and darting with Morty in his arms to the bed in the center of the room. The dark blue bedroom was dimly illuminated by star-shaped lights that lined the walls as if they were surrounded by space.

Rick gently laid Morty down on the bed and pulled at his shirt in mild panic, “Morty, y-y-your chest, Morty, bebè, what happened! Where are you bleeding, show me!”

“I’m f-fiiine, fuck!” Morty tried to shove Rick off of him, but Rick was persistent, and managed to yank Morty’s shirt off as Morty struggled and protested in annoyance. Naked to the waist, Morty shoved his still-bleeding hand at Rick, “It’s my _hand_ asshole!”

“Oh, gracias a dios–” Rick fell on top of Morty and wrapping Morty’s hand in Morty’s shirt, proceeded to cover Morty from his neck to his waist in kisses.

Morty kicked Rick off and scowled, “You _knew_!”

Rick sat back on his heels and laughed as he slowly pulled off his vest and shook his hair out. “Ehh…si? I’m a fucking genius, Morty, you re-re-really think-you really think older me didn’t no-notice that you made a portal gun and have been sneaking off to watch my concerts?”

Morty felt his face turn red with embarrassment as Rick continued to laugh at him.

“He came back and p-paid me a little visit to give me a heads up…” Rick cocked his head, “Also to get drunk…y chingar…Anyway, I decided to have a little fun with you.”

Morty rolled his eyes, fucking typical. Feeling like a fool, Morty held out his good hand, “Give me my portal gun then, and I-I-I’ll go.”

“Ha!” Rick crawled on the bed toward Morty until he was close to his face and rubbed his nose with his, “No chance, Morty.” Rick grabbed Morty’s jaw in his hand and squished his cheeks together so Morty’s mouth puckered up. He snickered and rubbed his forehead against Morty’s. “Wanna kiss?”

Morty furrowed his brow angrily and tried to stay furious, but the wine was making him feel warm and relaxed, and Rick was a little too good at the game of seduction. His devastating eyes were glittering  as they gazed at Morty, and Morty could feel his boner twitch insistently as the last of his resolve disappeared in the sexy conflagration of Rick’s mere presence. Morty did his best to mimic Rick’s growl and pouted adorably, as he spoke with his cheeks pinched, “Yeshh…”

Any feelings of annoyance were swiftly driven from Morty’s mind as Rick pounced on him that instant and covered him with warm, hungry kisses. While Rick kissed him senseless, Morty was dimly aware of Rick’s deft hands ripping his discarded shirt and wrapping strips tightly around Morty’s bloody palm. Pushing off, Rick grabbed another bottle of wine off the bedside table and pushed it into Morty’s good hand.

“Bebe. Drink, baby, it’ll help the pain.”

Morty lifted the bottle to his lips and sipped deeply, enjoying the hot sensation down his throat as the sweet wine dribbled into him. Rick took the bottle back before Morty could drink too much, and put it back on the table. Returning his attentions to the young teenager, Rick snagged Morty and dragged him into another bruising kiss, his long fingers wandering down to gently cup Morty’s growing bulge.

Morty groaned and arched into the touch, grabbing Rick’s shoulders and digging his nails into his muscle. “Rrrrick—”

Laughing, Rick rubbed Morty through his jeans and lightly pinched his nipples, “Eres tan fácil.”

Morty huffed through the kiss and whined, “Englishhh…”

‘Fuck you.” Rick unbuckled the front of and tucked his fingers in the edge of Morty’s waistband as Morty squirmed beneath him. “I’ll make you learn Spanish, fucker.”

Rick dragged Morty’s jeans down his legs, and his boxers followed soon after. Naked and twisting against silk bedsheets, Morty groaned as Rick’s hand’s smoothed up and down his skin. Lifting his head up, Morty was just in time to see Rick hover over his rock-hard cock. Grinning Rick grabbed Morty’s dick and pumped it agonizingly slowly as Morty writhed, “Say por favor, baby.”

“Por favor, Rick ahhh!”

Rick’s tongue flicked out and swirled around Morty’s tip, torturing him until Morty grunted, and grabbing Rick’s long hair, pushed his head down onto his dick. Rick laughed again around Morty’s dick and began to bob his head up and own, sucking slowly, and driving Morty wild. Leaning his head back against the pillow, Morty snapped it right back up again as he felt a wet finger press against him gently.

“RICK! Oooohhh…”

“Ey…”

Rick’s finger easily slipped inside after a few seconds of pushing, and Morty moaned at the sensation. Wanting to participate, Morty struggled to sit up and pushed Rick off, breathing heavily. Rick cocked an eyebrow, “Hm?”

Morty breathed for a few seconds before lunging forward and tackling Rick backward onto the bed. “H-h-how do-do _you_ like it?”

Rick answered by cupping the back of Morty’s head in his hand and drawing him into a tender kiss. Morty’s hands clumsily found their way to Rick’s belt, where Morty fumbled and grabbed until the buckle came loose and he was able to undo the button and zipper of the front of Rick’s jeans.

As he felt Rick’s boner almost jump out of the tight confines of his pants, Morty gasped and pulled back from the kiss to look down at Rick and stick his tongue out as he reached his hands into Rick’s boxers and stroked his massive length.

Rick helped Morty scooch his jeans down further, until his cock sprang up and nearly smacked Morty in the face. Gripping the thick cock in front of him, Morty excitedly clamped his mouth over the tip, attempting to stuff as much of Rick into his mouth as possible.

“Ayy, easy, easy!” Rick ran his fingers through Morty’s curls as Morty drooled and moaned through a sloppy blowjob. After just a few minutes Rick couldn’t take it anymore, and gently pushed Morty off, before sliding to the edge of the bed in a sitting position. Rummaging around in the bedside table until he found lube, Rick slathered it onto his cock before grabbing Morty and dragging him into his lap to straddle him.

Morty buried his face in Rick’s neck as he circled his arms around the strong, tattooed shoulders before him. “R-rick, p-p-please be gentle…”

Rick’s warm arm squeezed him into his chest as he rubbed his back with one hand and firmly rubbed lube on the inside of Morty’s ass with the other. “I’ll take care of you, cariño.”

He positioned himself beneath Morty and pushed carefully as Morty whimpered sweetly into Rick’s neck. Rick finally slipped in and pushed until Morty was sitting flat on Rick’s lap and filled completely with cock. Guiding Morty’s hips, Rick began to slowly teach him to bounce and grind up and down on Rick’s dick, gaining speed as he groaned in ectasy.

Rick grunted and bit his lip as he watched the red-faced, huffing and puffing teenager ride him like a fuckin champ.

“Rick—Rick I-I-I’m gonna cum!”

“Si,” Rick thrust up into Morty and picked up the pace, “Cum, baby.”

Morty gasped hard as spunk exploded out of him onto their chests. Rick continued to pump into a limp Morty for a few more seconds before he came as well, filling Morty’s ass with a low growl.

Rolling off of Rick, Morty lay flat on his back and caught his breath in the star-studded room. Rick flopped down beside him and pressed a kiss to Morty’s shoulder.

“Enjoy yourself?”

“Ohhhh _yes_ …” Morty breathed appreciatively.

“Good,” Rick turned over to lay on his back as well, “Because this is the last concert you’ll be attending.”


	3. Escape My Violence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morty heads home back to his own Rick.

Morty stared up at the dark, starry ceiling as Rick’s words hung in the air between them. The burn of tears behind his eyes made him swallow several times before he let his wavering voice inquire:

“What the _fuck_?” Morty sat up, turned and glared at Rick who was still laying back on the bed, arms folded behind his head, watching Morty closely with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “You can’t—y-y-y-you-you can’t just-just, unilaterally just, j-just _decide_ that! I love these concerts, Rick! I wanna…I wanna see more!”

Rick slowly shook his head as he looked up at Morty “Nope. Lo siento, mi cielito.” Rick’s face hardened into a dark look as if to warn ‘no more arguing,’ and he crooked his finger up at Morty, “C-come lie down with me before you have to leave. Y-y-you don’t want your last minutes here to be unpleasant.”

Bristling, Morty crossed his arms over his bare chest and clenched his teeth, “N-n-n-no! I w-wanna talk about this Rick! I-I-I think I should have a say.”

Rick narrowed his eyes and Morty recognized the look of smoldering irritation from the many times he had seen it on his Rick’s face. Pushing himself up into a seated position, he sat cross-legged in front of Morty and for the first time all night, Morty felt a little afraid of this younger version of his grandfather.

“You wanna talk, eh?” Rick’s hand thrust forward and roughly grabbed Morty’s chin, twisting Morty’s face to the side, “You pierced y-your own ear tonight with an alien pharmaceutical aid you know nothing about, just so-just so you could hear _song lyrics_.”  Rick tightened his grip on Morty’s chin to pinch the bruise there and nodded darkly as Morty winced in pain, “And you got roughed up pretty good by a thug more than three times your size.”

Morty wrenched his chin out of Rick’s hand, so Rick grabbed Morty’s arm instead and waved the sloppily bandaged hand in front of the teenager’s face, “You sliced your hand open on broken glass—”

Snatching back his hand, Morty held it to his chest and chewed his lip to keep from crying. “Stop, I—”

Ignoring him, Rick pushed Morty backward onto the bed and loomed over him, glaring and aggressive, “Cállate, Morty, I’m not done talking yet—you’re underage and you’ve been drinking all night, y-you came by yourself to a place you’ve never been to before, without telling anyone— _anyone_ where you were going.” Rick got in Morty’s face and a low growl crept into his voice, “You are young, small, you don’t know how to protect yourself Morty, and you-you-you’re only dimly aware of the dangers that s-surrounded you tonight. You are NOT fucking coming back here.”

His harsh tone was like a knife in Morty’s chest. Closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the beautiful, aggravated face above him, Morty breathed deeply before crumbling into tears.  

“ _Joder_ ,” Rick sighed and wrapped his arms around Morty beneath him, rolling onto his back, dragging the teenager with him. Morty fought him half-heartedly before burying his face in the crook of Rick’s neck to choke out a hoarse sob. Rick’s warm hands rubbed Morty’s back in slow circles, and gently scratched his scalp, and kneaded the muscles in his neck as he shushed Morty gently and repeated sorry’s in Spanish and English until Morty’s crying began to quiet.

When Rick spoke next, Morty could feel his throat move with the words next to his cheek, “Morty…I live a very dangerous life right now. And as-as much fun I had tonight, I can’t trust myself to keep you safe in my world…” Rick’s hands went to Morty’s cheeks and he gently lifted Morty’s face to look him in the eyes, “…or from _me_. I’m not a good influence on you, Morty.” Rick laughed and Morty relaxed slightly at the sound.

“Rick, I could—j-j-just—y’know you could _teach_ me to fight a-a-and—”

Rick gently kissed Morty before he could finish his sentence, “I am not doing this because I want to…trust me,” Rick tickled Morty’s ribs as he cuddled him close, “You think I _want_ to give you up?” Hugging him tightly again, Rick touched his forehead to Morty’s and held his gaze, “I’m d-doing—I’m doing this because I-I care about you, Morty. I can’t bear it if you get hurt.”

Morty pouted but slowly nodded, his forehead still pressed to Rick, “O-okay…”

Covering Morty’s pouting mouth with a kiss, Rick’s warm hands resumed rubbing Morty’s back. “Don’t think about it, baby…enjoy your time here now.”

Morty leaned into Rick’s warm frame, and spent the next  hour listening to Rick tell him crazy stories from being on tour while he tried with only half-success to remain in the moment and just enjoy his time there. All too soon, Rick was cleaning Morty up more thoroughly, bandaging his hand properly with gauze and medical tape, wiping tears and grime from his cheeks, and helping him change back into his clothes before pulling his own jeans back on.

Finally handing Morty back his portal gun, Rick leaned against the edge of the bed, and opened his arms and grinned, “Ven aquí, cariña”

Morty ran and flung himself into Rick’s arms, gulping back tears, trying to not be a total baby as he said goodbye. At the end of the hug, Rick pressed a quick kiss to Morty’s forehead and gently pushed him away, “Time to go.”

Opening up a portal, Morty glanced over his shoulder at the gorgeous, violent, decadent rockstar he was leaving behind. “B-bye, Rick…Thanks for gi-gi-giving me a fun night…”

Rick shrugged, “I’ll see y-you in a couple minutes don’t worry, Morty.”

As Morty began to walk through the portal he looked back one last time as Rick winked at him and blew him a kiss, “Hey, Morty— feliz cumpleaños!”

Morty stepped back into his bedroom. It was still the middle of the night and the house was silent. Rick was seated on Morty’s bed, with his 3DS open, and the familiar sounds of Zelda music sifting through the silent room. Without looking up at Morty, Rick stretched out his hand and snapped his fingers, “Portal gun.”

Sighing as he walked over, Morty took one last look at his portal gun before handing it over to Rick. Accepting the portal gun, Rick stashed it in one of his pockets, closed his DS and patted the bed next to him. Morty took off his shoes and joined him on the bed, leaning his back against the wall. They were close enough that their shoulders touched affectionately, and spurred by courage from a wonderful night, Morty hesitated for a split second, and then leaned his head over to rest on Rick’s shoulder.

“I’m a—euuughh—I-I-I’m a horrible asshole, Morty.” Rick made no apologies, just rummaged around in his jacket as he spoke, “Y-y-y’know the o-only good—urrrpp-the _only_ good things about me are Beth and Summer and you, Morty. _Especially_ you.” He reached down and gripped Morty’s knee beside him, “I can handle it if you hate me for fo-euughh-rbidding you from seeing the band live again, but I can’t-can’t handle it if something happened to you.”

Morty nodded and sighed, “I know. It’s okay, Rick.”

Finally finding what he was looking for in his labcoat, Rick produced a thin purple envelope and handed it to Morty. “Happy Birthday.”

Picking up his head off Rick’s shoulder, Morty accepted the present in surprise and tore it open. Two metallic tickets were inside, along with a fifty dollar bill. Morty looked up at Rick with a question in his eyes.

Rick shrugged, “Eh, it’s for a -uurp- band called The Snatch Experience. They’re a-they’re a Flesh Curtains cover band, but they-they-they’re pretty good, I mean,” Rick waved his hand dismissively, “N-n-nothing is as good as the real thing, I-I-I mean, Morty, we were awesome, Morty! But, these guys are still good. W-we can go see them for your birthday if you want…”

Morty grinned up at Rick and leaned into him again, “Y-yeah, Rick!” As Morty looked at the tickets another thought popped into his head, “Oh! Can I ask for something else for my birthday too, Rick?”

“What’s that?”

Morty smirked up at Rick and tried his best to mimic the smoldering look his grandfather had perfected so well, “Teach me Spanish?”

Rick laughed, and Morty felt his heart leap at the sound. Throwing his arm around Morty’s shoulders Rick dragged him closer, “Va, mi ceilto.” 


End file.
